Everybody's Got Somebody But Me
by ArgentSleeper
Summary: Merlin was happy for Arthur. He really was. It was merely that he was less than happy for himself. Because honestly, what demon had created the guest list so that of every person in the entire party, Merlin was the only single one?


**A/N: For the Merlin Ships Fest, prompt: Song Lyrics. I chose the song of the same title by Hunter Hayes. Enjoy the fluff and hopeless cliches.**

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_I'm happy for Arthur. I'm happy for Arthur. I'm happy for Arthur._

Merlin _was_ happy for Arthur. He really was. It was merely that he was _less_ than happy for himself.

Because honestly, what demon had created the guest list so that of every person in the _entire party_, Merlin was the only single one? Everywhere he looked there was some other couple lost in the throes of romantic bliss. Arthur fed bites of cake to his blushing bride Elena. Gwen and Lance were slow dancing on the side of the dance floor, Gwaine and Percival having taken up the entire middle with their ridiculous tango. Arthur's sister Morgana was having her feet rubbed by her husband Leon, and while she _was_ berating him, the soft smiles as her gaze went from his face to her swollen belly belied any harsh words. Freya and Mordred, Vivian and Sophia, not one of them was alone.

Even the older generation had hearts in their eyes, with Arthur's parents in deep discussion with Merlin's parents _and_ his aunt and uncle, the former probably boasting about his children's bliss while comforting the latter that one day their boy, too, would find the one of his dreams.

_Not bloody likely_, Merlin grumbled to himself, sneaking a peek at his watch and wondering just how soon was too soon to leave. They'd done the toasts and all, already. It wasn't like Merlin was _needed_ for anything now. Arthur probably wouldn't even notice if he went, as wrapped up in Elena as he was. He was currently dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, the besotted look on his face enough to make Merlin want to gouge his eyes out with his spoon.

"Ugh, stomach churning, am I right?"

Merlin jumped as another presence plopped down beside him. He was fairly certain that mind-reading was not _actually_ possible, was it? Just in case, he didn't turn to look at them. Eye contact was a crucial element of proper mind-reading. "Ehm, sorry?"

"Those two lovebirds over there. I have a feeling that if Daddy Pendragon wasn't in the room, he'd be licking that frosting off her face. And other places besides."

Merlin snorted before he could catch himself. He'd lived with Arthur for two years while he dated Elena, and earplugs only blocked out so much. The assessment was certainly spot on.

He snuck a glance at his new seating partner and had to take a second, longer look when he saw who it was. Mithian, one of Elena's bridesmaids and an old friend from primary school. Of all of her bridesmaids Mithian was the one Merlin had had the least contact with. Maid of honour Vivian had of course been in his face since the proposal, insisting that the MoH and Best Man had to be the "bestest of friends." Which to her meant they were supposed to sleep together, but that was one crazy train Merlin was certainly _not_ going to take a ride on. Sophia was like a leech to Vivian's side, and then Freya was a leech to _his_ side, terrified of the two more outgoing girls, but Mithian had kept more to her bride.

"I'd say they should get a room, but well, they already have one. They just haven't relocated there for the good of everyone's stomachs yet. Although perhaps that's because I haven't told them about it yet."

Mithian giggled. She was a gorgeous girl, long brown hair twisted into tiny braids on each side of her head, technically the same as the other girls, yet Merlin thought the look was more fitting on her. When she smiled she revealed two tiny dimples on her cheeks, and her eyes danced merrily with mirth.

He couldn't help but give a peek around the ballroom, wondering which lucky man was here with her.

"I supposed it could be worse," she conceded, inclining her head conspiratorially. "They aren't _actually_ hurting anyone, not like those two lugs over there."

As if on cue Gwaine spun Percival around, bowling him into the tiny Freya and sending her sprawling to the ground. Everyone in the vicinity rushed to her side, and even Arthur and Elena were drawn from their little bubble.

Merlin clapped a hand over his mouth guiltily before a chuckle could escape. When he thought he could hold it in he murmured, "I'm telling them you caused that."

"Me?" Mithian squeaked in mock outrage. "What did I do?"

"The power of foreshadowing. You said they were going to hurt someone, and they did. Ergo, you caused it!"

"I did not!" But now she was laughing too, neither of them able to control their giggles. "And if you dare tell them I did I'll tell Arthur about the date your spoon had with your eyes."

"What?" His eyes bugged out in shock. She really _could_ read minds. "I never- I didn't-"

Mithian placed a hand over his where he still was clutching the utensil and winked. "Let's just say I noticed you giving it the same contemplative look I was."

Merlin didn't really notice much about her words because he was too busy focusing on the heat of their joined hands, a heat that was quickly spreading into other areas of his body quite unattached to his fingers. He almost missed when she leaned in close and whispered,

"You said Arthur has a room. How 'bout you?"

His heart did a flip-flop and his face was probably the colour of the trademarked Pendragon napkins. "Ehm, well, you know… Isn't this a bit cliché?"

Mithian cocked her head. "Probably. But are you really going to let that stop you?"

She gave a tiny squeeze of his hand, and Merlin nearly shot to his feet. "Nope. Not really."

Merlin gave a glance at his best friend swaying with his new bride on the dance floor and fingered the key card in his pocket as they stole quickly out of the room. He was happy for Arthur. And a nice bottle of wine was the perfect way to show it.


End file.
